


This Charming Man

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cedric didn't die AU, Cedric isn't as charming as he thinks, F/M, Flirting, HP: EWE, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s like the world is shifting because she’s able to see things differently as she thinks back about them while considering what he’s just said</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Charming Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rozarka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozarka/gifts).



> Over on my [Livejournal](http://inell.livejournal.com/), I've been accepting challenges and doing polls on ships that my readers enjoy. This is one of those! Feel free to let me know if there are any ships you'd like me to consider writing.

Flourish and Blotts is so crowded with witches that Hermione has a difficult time making her way to the second level. Looking down at the lower level, she can see a table set up for a book signing, which explains the crowd. The noise is irritating. What must be a hundred women of all different age groups whispering and tittering amongst themselves reminds her of the noise from the chicken coup at her grandfather’s farm when they used to visit. Normally, she would be against judging her fellow women and comparing them to a bunch of cackling hens, but she’s not in the best of moods right now, and they are disturbing what should be a silent perusal of the bookshelves, so she isn’t feeling very kind towards them.

“Hermione? Is that really you?”

She turns away from staring at the crowd with what might possibly be an expression torn between hexing and glaring into submission to see one of the reasons she’s crank right now standing nearby. Her expression must be as perfected as she imagines, because Cedric Diggory actually takes a step back and _finally_ seems to realize that he’s dealing with a dangerous woman. “No, I’m merely a figment of your overactive imagination, Cedric.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop wasting my time with asinine questions.”

“I assume this is what Goldstein means when he says he’s too scared to tell you anything for fear of the barbed words making him bleed. I’ve always been curious since I’ve never been their target before.” Cedric just smiles as if she’s a harmless kitten instead of a deadly lioness. “I’ve been wounded by them before, of course, since you seem to take particular delight in challenging me, but they’ve never been coupled with that specific look on your face. I survived, so I’ll assure him that the bark is worse than the bite.”

“I wouldn’t constantly be challenging you if you weren’t always arguing with everything I say,” she points out. “One of these days, I’m going to forget my promise to Harry about never drawing a wand on you just because you’re annoying, and you’ll rue the day you crossed me.”

Cedric has the audacity to laugh, his head tilted back and eyes shining with merriment. The urge to hex him is growing stronger, so she reaches for a book to keep her hands busy because she does so hate seeing the disappointment on Harry’s face when she hexes someone he views as a friend. It would help if he didn’t befriend everyone in the bloody world, but Merlin forbid he listen to her about anything. She just helped save his arse and keep him alive so he could defeat Voldemort and protect their world, but what does she know.

“You’re frowning, love. A pretty face like yours should never frown.” Cedric grins as he walks closer to her. “You were sounding like you’ve spent too much time with old Mr. Higgs, making empty threats and waving your wand around while dismissing everyone around you as inferior. You don’t want to end up like Mr. Higgs, Hermione.”

“Mr. Higgs is one of the only intelligent colleagues I have, and I see nothing wrong with acquiring some of his personality traits.” Hermione raises her chin defiantly. “He might be old, but he’s very knowledgeable. There just isn’t anyone other than me that he feels is worthy of sharing that knowledge with. The added benefit of it making his son and grandson uncomfortable that he’s befriended a Muggleborn is just amusing.”

“The Department of Mysteries is entirely comprised of intelligent people. Shacklebolt has only hired the best of the best and continued employing those who meet his standards. You don’t have to spend all your time with Higgs.” Cedric shakes his head. “His theories on time travel and memory charms are fascinating, I know, but you could actually leave the department to have lunch sometimes.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “You’re being stroppy about Higgs because I refused to go to the canteen with you yesterday. Really, Cedric, that’s not very nice.”

“You’ve refused every time I ask. I’d like to think I’m a lot more charming than some wrinkled old Slytherin who calls you _that_ name sometimes when he’s lost in crazy thoughts.” Cedric thrusts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I promise that I won’t bite if you say yes one time. Unless you ask nicely, that is.”

“Put your lip away. That nonsense doesn’t work on me, and you know it. That’s one of the only reasons you even ask me for lunch anyway. Misguided loyalty to Harry that makes you think he’d want you to entertain me, and the fact that I don’t drop my knickers at the sight of your dimpled smile like most the other witches you know.”

“Ah, but you _have_ noticed the dimple. That’s progress.” He flashes the dimple in question as he leans a little closer. “While I must admit I do enjoy the challenges that you constantly throw my way, I also just want to have lunch with you so we can discuss your theories on arithmancy and runes working together to create stronger protection charms, and your thoughts on dark magic and psychological consequences excite me, not that I’ve heard much about them. Just what little I’ve overheard when you speak with Shacklebolt.”

“Minister Shacklebolt has allowed me the opportunity to research some of those theories, but I’m not at liberty to discuss them until I’ve drawn specific conclusions and reviewed them with him. You can’t speak about that with anyone, Cedric. It’s just theories using some of what I’ve read about Muggle mental health with what I observed during the war and since. It doesn’t even fall under the Department of Mysteries, but Kingsley indulges me when he feels my research might benefit our world.”

“Kingsley.” Cedric makes a face. “So, are those rumors true, then? About you being the Minister’s pet in more ways than one?”

“Certainly not!” Hermione has the book down and her wand out before he can stop grimacing at the idea. “We have a professional relationship at work, and we’re friends outside of it.” She doesn’t mention the brief affair that they did have because it had ended years ago, right after the war when they were working so closely together on fixing the entire Ministry of Magic. Long nights that led to mutual release between consenting adults. Neither of them was interested in pursuing it further, but they’ve maintained that close working relationship since. Of course, it’s led to gossip, but she just ignores it usually. Cedric’s just getting under her skin.

“Put the wand away, Hermione. I believe you. I’ve watched you enough to know that you’re not shagging the Minister or anyone else right now.” He arches a brow. “And I don’t care what might have happened in the past. I won’t tell anyone what I’ve overheard, but you’ll have to go to lunch with me Monday, just to make sure.”

“Blackmail is unbecoming,” she says, reluctantly putting her wand back. “I thought such things were beneath the golden boy of Hufflepuff.”

“I thought almost hexing handsome and charming men in a bookstore was beneath the golden girl of Gryffindor, but it seems we learn something new every day.” Cedric smirks. “Besides, it isn’t blackmail. Consider it incentive?”

“I’m still trying to locate the handsome and charming man I was going to hex. All I see everywhere are witches, though there are a few wizards in the crowd now. What the bloody hell is going on down there anyway?” She glances down to see an unfamiliar older woman seated at a table now signing books for the crowd. “This is worse than when Gilderoy Lockhart had a signing. I was here for one of those, before he suffered the memory issue. That’s actually one of the case studies I’m reviewing for my research on memory charms you mentioned. He might have been a loud and boisterous liar, but he doesn’t deserve to suffer for it. I am hopeful that the research can be used to help others suffering from the effects of memory charms, too.”

“I admire that you can take something that is not exactly applicable for our department and spin it in a way so that it becomes something that might benefit us as well as St. Mungos,” Cedric says, voice closer than before. “The work you did with reversing the effects of those dark magic curses helped a lot of people, including some of my friends.”

“You don’t seem to understand that being an Unspeakable means that we aren’t supposed to discuss the research we do so openly, especially not in a public place.” Hermione bites her lip. “Thank you, though. I was rather proud of the results from those experiments and research. What you’ve done with the Unforgivables is very informative, and I’m looking forward to the results of your analysis on the effects of Crucio and the brain. I am hopeful that you might be able to find a way to help aid those who have retreated into their minds after suffering so much from that curse.” It would be wonderful if Cedric’s research could help Neville’s parents one day.

“Of course you know about that,” he murmurs, sounding amused and perhaps a bit smug. “I’d be happy to give you more details of the research so far over dinner one evening. Somewhere private, obviously, so no one can overhear. I could cook, in fact, and we can share our research. I’d like to learn more about this Muggle mental health theory because it might actually benefit my research, too.”

“A working dinner?” She looks at him then and sees that he’s even closer than she realized. She moves her gaze over his handsome face and then focuses back on the crowd. “Who is that woman?”

“There would be working, yes, but I don’t foresee it being entirely professional if I get my way about it.” Cedric snorts. “To think I originally thought you were here for the signing. I must be daft. That’s Cornelia Daggert. She writes those romance novels that Hannah and Lavender are constantly gushing over during the monthly DA dinners.”

“Oh. That explains all the witches, though I do notice a few wizards in line, too. I don’t read that type of fiction, but Ginny’s read some of the books that she borrowed from Lavender. She told me they’re very good, and she felt like she knew the characters because they were so well-written and real. Of course, I think she just liked that one of the books she was telling me about had a female Quidditch player romancing a dashing auror, so it struck close to home for her. To each their own.” Hermione shrugs before slowly smiling. “Wait. Is that why _you’re_ here? Secretly a romance reader, Cedric?”

“I don’t read Cornelia Daggert novels.” Cedric ducks his head, and she swears he’s blushing. “I just wanted to see the crowd turnout and hear what the readers were saying. This latest book just came out a couple of months back. It’s about a professor at a magical school and the pub owner who’s had a crush on him since they were first years but never did anything about it back then.” He clears his throat and glances at her. “It’s all very sweet and not as, uh, steamy as some of them.”

She considers what he’s said and looks at the crowd curiously before snapping her head back to stare at him. “Wait. A professor and a pub owner? And Ginny mentioned a Quidditch player and an auror. Has there also been one about two magizoologists traveling the world and discovering rare creatures? Or what about a joke shop owner and a mediwitch? Or two best friends who grow up and open a pub and art gallery, respectively, if the romance isn’t just heteronormative and actually embraces all types of sexualities for the protagonists?”

“Business owner. Not specifically a prank shop.” Cedric smiles sheepishly. “There’s also a half dozen others, including one about an artist and his best friend, who is a bartender because he didn’t own a pub yet. None of them are as important as the one Daggert’s planning to write next.”

“Does anyone else know, Cedric?” She isn’t entirely sure she’s drawing the right conclusions or why he’s letting her on what must be a rather large secret considering there’s an older witch downstairs signing autographs as if she’s the one who writes the books, but it seems as if she understands what he’s trying to tell her.

“Susan, because she’s my editor and Pansy, because she’s my agent. They’re both under secrecy charms, though, because this isn’t something I want known by the whole world. I haven’t even told my parents because Dad would probably take out an advert in the Prophet bragging about it, after he got over the fact that his son was writing romance novels in his free time.” Cedric glances at her, his lip curling slightly on the right into a wry smile. “It’s been going on since I was stuck in hospital recovering from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, so I’m rather good at keeping a secret. It’s what makes me a good Unspeakable.”

“Why tell me then?” She’s curious and has to ask. “I don’t read the books, and, yes, I probably would have figured out they were written by someone familiar with my friends if I’d paid attention to the plot lines and characters, but I wouldn’t have suspected you. You didn’t even put me under a magical contract, so I could announce it to everyone below right now if I wanted.”

“I trust you.” He shrugs. “And I told you because you dislike liars. It would have been lying by omission, sure, but you’d still think it was lying if you found out later. And you would have because you’re good at watching people and learning all their secrets, or so I’ve heard.”

She arches a brow and studies him. “You mentioned the one you’re planning to write next. Why’s that one so important?”

“It’s a bit more personal the others, but I think it’s time to finally start working on it instead of sitting around wanting, pining, and being a coward, which is Susan’s word for it when I whinge at her about things.” Cedric looks at her and flashes that bloody dimple. “It’s about two Unspeakables who have been bickering with each other to keep themselves from just snogging for years, and I think it’s going to be the best one ever, a masterpiece. I’ve got a title already chosen, but I just don’t know how it’s going to end.”

“Seriously?” She blinks at him, and it’s like the world is shifting because she’s able to see things differently as she thinks back about them while considering what he’s just said. The arguing, the sparks, the snarking, the constant nagging from him for conversation, all of it. “You fancy _me_?”

“Seriously. It’s a pain in the arse sometimes, and I’ve often felt like you knew and were just toying with me, but I realized today that you honestly had no idea why I keep asking you to lunch or mentioning different events we could attend together or basically doing everything possible to get your attention other than strip naked and lie out on your work desk, which I did consider one time, but Pansy insisted I was being a hysterical Hufflepuff and might get splinters in my arse because of cheap ministry furniture.”

“I had no idea!” She coughs to clear her throat and reaches up to fuss with a loose tendril of hair that has come free from her neat and tidy work hairstyle. “You aren’t particularly good at flirting, if that’s what you’ve been doing. I hope you properly reflect that in your novel. Would be unfair to readers to believe you’re actually good at this.”

“I’ll be sure to make my heroine an obstinate, workaholic pain in the arse with crazy hair that makes my hero’s fingers itch to feel and a wicked tongue that both infuriates and excites my poor smitten hero.” Cedric shakes his head. “I’ve already chosen my title, and I think it’s very appropriate, even if you have differing opinions.”

“What’s the title then?” Hermione asks, fighting a smile when Cedric sighs and looks down at the crowd before focusing his attention back on her.

“You can’t laugh.” He rolls his eyes when she just snorts at him and makes no such foolish promise. “It’s going to be called ‘This Charming Man’, because I’m very charming, regardless of what you think, and I like the way it sounds.”

“It’s false advertising, but it _is_ a romance novel, so that’s not to be unexpected.” She gives in and smiles as she tilts her head back and looks at him. “So how does it end?”

“I’m only at the beginning, so I don’t know yet.” Cedric reaches over to pull on the strand of hair she’s been fussing with. “If you’re willing to start with dinner, maybe we can figure out the ending together?”

“I think I’d like that,” she says, leaning over to kiss him before he can reply. When she pulls back, she feels mischievous as she touches his cheek. “The heroine makes the first move towards a kiss, displaying her bravery and ability to take charge while the hero stands around showing off his dimple and doing nothing but talking.”

“You’re going to be even worse now, aren’t you? Let the record reflect that it is not the first move that matters but what the hero does after that move,” Cedric says, moving his hand behind her and pulling her against him suddenly. “My readers are sweet and romantic, which means there won’t be any steamy shagging in the bookshelves before dinner is even had, so stop trying to seduce me into jumping ahead several chapters.”

“Several chapters? Goodness. It’s going to be a rather dull book, isn’t it?” Hermione moves her arms so she’s holding on to his shoulders and leaning up for another kiss.

“I don’t think dull is a word that anyone would ever use to describe you,” he murmurs, leaning his down and brushing his lips against hers teasingly. She licks at his lips and teases right back until he’s groaning and snogging her in a way she hasn’t been for far too long. When they finally pull apart, he’s flushed and his lips are swollen. “I think we should have dinner tonight. My readers are just going to have to deal with it.”

“Don’t worry about it. They all love the sex scenes,” she confides, smiling when he licks his lips and tightens his grip on her. “C’mon, Cedric. You said something about dinner? Let’s go work on that ending.”

End


End file.
